


The Result of Chaos

by Irxnkeys



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, chris is the best husband ngl, poor Josh I’m sorry bby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irxnkeys/pseuds/Irxnkeys
Summary: Josh may be home, but the events of the mountain still haunt his dreams.





	The Result of Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for my amazing best friend Blue Luna who is the reason I’m still motivated enough to write Detroit High and literally the only reason I ever have to motivation to write anything <3

All he could think about was the satisfying rip and tear of the muscle and sinew in his fangs.

 

The tangy, metallic taste of blood as it poured from his prey.

 

The soft, pale skin that slowly was becoming soaked and stained by crimson. 

 

The light blonde hair that stayed straight up through it all.

 

**He** had hair like that.

 

**He** had hair...exactly like that.

 

A glance down, and suddenly the taste he had come to love soured on his lips.

 

**He** was lying there. Still, cold, and bloody. The face he had spent hours dreaming of kissing was coated in blood splatters. Chunks were missing from parts of his body, the classic blue of his heavy winter coat shredded and darkening as the horrid liquid dried. 

 

His body told him to continue, that it was still hungry, it needed to keep eating.

 

His mind told him to stop. To remember the corpse in front of him. To think of the face forever frozen in horror.

 

**_Chris was his prey._ **

 

*****

 

Josh shut up in bed, one hand involuntarily coming up to claw at his cheek where old scarred skin still existed while the other flew across the comforter to feel for the telltale sign of his husband’s body under the fabric.

 

He vaguely heard the rustling of the sheets, but was frozen looking straight ahead. He jolted when two arms wrapped firmly around him.

 

“Josh...Josh it’s okay. It’s just me. It’s 2029. It’s not the mountain. We’re all okay. You’re okay.”

 

“Who made it?” He choked out, pushing back against the man who had done this countless times over.

 

“We all did. Remember? We went to Sam’s wedding a few months back?”

 

He remembered. He did. He was her man-of-honor. They had been all dressed up in black and red at the altar, and with Chris on the other side, he could envision that it was their wedding all over again. He had put on a lot of makeup because he didn’t want the scars to distract from his best friend’s big day.

 

Josh let himself relax into Chris’ hold, the warm body a wonderfully reassuring thing. Somehow, his eyes drifted closed again, and the heartbeat of the man he loved lulled him back to sleep.

 

*****

 

If Chris said it was easier the more it happened, he’d be lying.

 

He still remembered how it happened.

 

It had been all over the news.

 

‘Presumed Dead Washington Son Found On Blackwood’

 

He remembered how his blood had run cold at the idea that he had  _ left _ him there. Alone on that godforsaken mountain. With whatever remained of those  _ things. _ He remembered feeling like he had to throw up at the mere thought of it. 

 

When they pulled Josh out of that rubble, he was all bloody with scars covering his chest and these two stark openings like his mouth had been  _ ripped open _ . Chris has gone up there with Sam and she almost had to drag him away from the hospital that night. When Josh woke up he was...a mess, to put it lightly. His teeth had sharpened into points and had grown exponentially, large chunks of skin were peeled away from his arms as if he had scratched them up, and his hair was coming out in patches. The doctors didn’t know what could have caused all the damage...but he and Sam did.

 

Something had happened to Josh up on that mountain.  _ Something _ had taken him over in those mines, had driven him until there was almost none of him left.

 

It took a lot of work to bring the Josh they knew back.

 

By the time he had left his mostly catatonic state a year later, most of their friends were long gone.

 

Matt had moved to the states on a combination of a football scholarship and an essay he wrote about his experience.

 

Jess took some time coming back, and had oddly enough started a charity to pay for traumatized children to receive psychiatric care that was based in Toronto.

 

Emily took off. No one knows where. All that’s known is that she took ten thousand dollars from her parents and ran. No one knows if she’s even still alive.

 

Ashley had tried her best to stay and help, but after she and Chris broke up, she quickly found that their hometown only held a lifetime of bad memories. She’s a wife and a mother now, having married a man she met eight years ago in Ontario. She keeps in touch. Her daughter, Hannah, is five.

 

Sam and Mike had stayed put. They spent their days doing what Chris and Josh did for each other. Keeping themselves sane. The four have coffee on Sundays.

 

It had taken Chris all of three years rehabilitating Josh to realize that he was in love with his best friend. He knew it was cheesy, he knew it was a total cliche, but he had fallen for Josh hard and fast. They started dating when Chris got over his fear of rejection and told Josh how he felt. He popped the question six years ago.

 

Soon enough the wounds healed.

 

Soon enough there were no more surgeries.

 

Soon enough all that was left were the nightmares that Chris had long ago learned to soothe. 

 

Josh had lived through something  _ more _ . Something that, no matter how much time Chris spent around the wendigos, he couldn’t understand. 

 

So when Josh woke up screaming and crying, whimpering soft “I’m sorry”s into his chest, he just held him. He told him it was okay. Everyone was okay. It seemed to calm him down.

 

When Chris sobbed for hours at a time about an all too real depiction of his husband being sawed in half, Josh was there. They put aside their fears for each other. They comforted each other.

 

And every so often, when one of them shot up at night, the door to their bedroom would slowly creek open.

 

“Dad? Is Papa okay?” 

 

Jack. Their sweet little son. They had adopted him only three years ago, and had named him for the man who had saved Chris’ life that fateful night by giving his own. They hadn’t known his name until after the reports came out. Until reporters had stop banging on their doors and had started looking to the dead for answers. They met Jack Fiddler, who they knew as Flamethrower Guy, six months after the mountain.

 

“He’s okay, bud. Just needed a little reminder of where he was.”

 

Through the darkness, Chris could see him nod.

 

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

 

The answer was always the same.

 

“Of course you can.”

 

Cuddled up with the man and boy he loved most in the world, Chris let himself sleep.

 

They had been through hell.

 

But at least now they could truly  _ live _ .

 


End file.
